


explosions in the sky

by suhoya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, M/M, art student Akaashi and volleyball player Bokuto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:12:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suhoya/pseuds/suhoya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Noun	1.	   chemical attraction</b> - <i>the force attracting atoms to each other and binding them together in a molecule.</i></p><p>Bokuto and Akaashi meet in a five hour bus ride, and everything that follows is, perhaps, a matter of chemical attraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	explosions in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: my chemistry knowledge is the same as a 5 year old kid. besides breaking bad. 8)

 

_waking up_

 

 

Bokuto’s day couldn’t have started any worse.

He overslept, tripped over the sheets when getting up from bed, stained his shirt while making coffee so he had to change clothes twice, and consequently to all the unfortunate events that morning which also included a subway carriage clogged for five minutes, he missed the bus he had purchased the ticket for.

So even though he knew he wasn’t going to make it in time at all, he still turned up at the terminal nearly out of breath, hoping that maybe the bus driver of 8:00am might have had a terrible waking up as well and was therefore late, too. Contrary to Bokuto’s wishful thinking, the driver and passengers were probably out of Tokyo already, butts and backs resting on their comfortable seats, as Bokuto assumed when he saw the empty spot where his bus was supposed to be parked between its companions to other destinations.

8:12am. Well, at least he tried.

Dragging his feet dejectedly to the tickets booth inside the station with the weight of his sports bag on his shoulder feeling heavier than ever, he asked for a new ticket, but then his misery grew even wider when the man behind the glass told him that the 9:00am bus was full, and therefore he would have to wait for almost two hours to get on his way.

He cursed his worst luck, and tried to pull off a defeated and crushed look to soften the man’s heart. “And couldn’t I still get in if someone’s missing? I mean there would be a seat for me, right?”

The supervisor hesitated for a couple seconds, and then nodded. “Alright. I’m giving you a ticket for the 10 o’clock, but you may go to the 9 and tell the conductor to let you in if there’re any free seats by any chance.”

Bokuto’s eyes sparkled with joy. “Hell yeah! Thanks!”

So after a long glare from the assistant and brand new ticket in hand, Bokuto headed outside with the hopeful premise that there were only about 45 minutes left before he got on that bus.

He spotted an empty bench not very far away from the line of bus stops. He sat down and took his volleyball out of his bag and began playing with it distractedly. Soft bumps between his hands, switching from open palms to closed fists, and also with his wrists. The ball didn’t drop a single time, and Bokuto stopped somewhere past the hundred hit after a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi’s day could have started much better.

Like for example not getting out of bed at half past seven the day after he had his last exam of first semester and handed in a couple projects that had had him tied to his chair for two agonizing weeks.

Instead, he had promised his family to visit them once he was free. And, well, he certainly was free, and sleepy, and tired. But Akaashi never broke his promises or whatever he set himself to do, so after packing the few things he needed for the trip, he left his dorm diligently on the way to the bus terminal.

He arrived around fifteen minutes before departure time, so he peeked around for the right stop and saw the conductor already collecting some tickets from people gathering up. With hurried steps, Akaashi headed to the end of that short line of passengers.

The bus was already filled with people, but still there were plenty of empty seats. Akaashi walked until almost the end of the isle and chose the right side window. Backpack by his feet, instrumental playlist set on low volume, and sketchbook and pencil on his lap – Akaashi was all settled.

The last passengers entered and looked around for empty seats, and some minutes later without anyone else getting on the bus, it all seemed ready to go.

Akaashi was absent-mindedly looking through the glass with his arm propped on the frame, while he heard the steps of the conductor walking towards him and glancing around the seats. _Probably counting the passengers_ , Akaashi thought. The man turned around and walked back, exchanging some words with the driver, and Akaashi turned away to the window. The sky hadn’t seemed to become clearer and still kept a dusty mist of grey. Well, if it was going to rain, it’d better be while on the bus.

He was too distracted on his own thoughts that he didn’t hear someone approaching again until he felt some weight dropping to his side seat after the sound of the bus doors closing.

Cocking his head to the left, he saw a boy holding a ball on his lap. Akaashi didn’t mean to stare, but his eyes caught on the eccentricity of that guy’s hair – long, spiky and in different shades. It wasn’t only that what caught his attention, but also his masculine face and fit body. _So that’s what a professional player looks like_ , Akaashi speculated. Their only model up to that moment in Anatomy class had been an older woman, and despite having learned a lot about wrinkles and saggy skin, the majority of students were eagerly waiting for a younger male in order to practice muscles and shadows.

So for art’s sake only, inevitably, Akaashi found himself guiding his eyes earnestly along the stranger’s toned limbs. He discovered some veins showing on his strong arms, and his open legs with half exposed thighs contributed to the confirmation that such body _had to_ belong to a sportsman. He seemed to have good proportions overall, and Akaashi thought that this guy would probably be the perfect option to recreate the pose of his so deeply admired _Discobolus_ of Myron. If only he could bring him to uni.

But his wishes were interrupted once he lifted up his eyes and faced the boy’s.

 

 

 

 

 

«Is he… checking me out…?»

From the corner of his right eye, Bokuto could swear he felt his seatmate’s eyes all over him, even though it looked like it was just simply out of curiosity, the usual quick scan you take when someone sits next to you.

But such guess became wrong when their eyes met in a blaze and the curious guy rapidly turned away. Bokuto was struck by surprise and couldn’t even manage to say anything, left alone with his head facing the backseat in front of him.

«He was!?»

Because you don’t abruptly turn around unless you were peeking way too much, do you?

«What the heck, Koutarou, it’s alright. It’s completely normal to stare, and that doesn’t mean…»

«Wait, maybe a pigeon dropped a shit on my head!? Fuck, how do I get to know.»

«Whatever. It’s probably nothing.»

Bokuto tried to brush off nonsense out of his mind and stretched his legs down the following seat. There wasn’t much space but he could deal with it.

With a careful glance, he could see the mysterious guy’s profile. He had earbuds on his ears and was spacing out by the window frame with a bored expression.

«He looks… how do they call it…? _Indie_?»

Slightly ruffled dark hair, slanted eyes, pale neck, and bony shoulders under a checkered shirt.

«He’s cute…»

Bokuto didn’t realize, but he turned out to be the one staring for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_magic hours_

 

 

Finally outside of metropolitan Tokyo, and immersed into the long highway surrounded by green fields, Akaashi’s mind emptied from the clogged remnants of the city. That’s probably why a small part of him was actually glad to make a visit home. The only place where he could breathe with ease and let inspiration flow around. Because he had felt trapped and caged so many times inside his weekly bubble of work and pressure, he almost had forgotten what it felt like to look around and see only but nature.

The sky was still grey, even darker than earlier, and soon enough drops began to spurt against the window and drip down the glass trailing sinuous paths.

Akaashi was one of those people who didn’t particularly like rain, but could find it pleasant as long as he weren’t right underneath it. So inside the dry and covered bus, he finally opened his sketchbook, which had been on his lap all the while, and flipped through the pages full of drawings until he found a blank one.

Most of the drawings and sketches from that notebook were done while waiting at crowded places, or during breaks from classes. It was Akaashi’s source of memories of the things he saw or experienced every day. A lot of them were unfinished on purpose and not because of lack of time or ideas or art blocks. According to Akaashi, those sketches worked like his own memories – they would always fade away through time, so drawing them completely would be incorrect. They were not photographs – they were supposed to capture a scene, a moment, a memory, but also let one’s mind –his mind- remember the forgotten pieces.

He started off by drafting the inside of the bus from what he could observe – the ceiling, the rows of seats in front of him, the surrounding windows. Thin, straight lines for framing and perspective, and then little by little focusing on the details.

His left eye didn’t miss how his seatmate was fidgeting around with his ball, bouncing it softly between his thighs and his hands. Akaashi hadn’t thought of him again, and then it occurred to him that, well, if he wasn’t going to be able to paint him as his favourite sculpture, he could at least include him in his sketch. And so he did, on the bottom left edge of the page, started to draw a couple of bent legs, mostly showing his bare knees, and a patch of T-shirt over his shorts. He then followed with a hand on top of his ball, resting on his lap. Akaashi was drawing from memory, and when he finished adding the last details to that part, he raised his head and looked to the real one, only to get caught. _Again_.

The boy didn’t seem angry; instead he looked rather curious, with his eyebrows a bit uplifted.

“Hey, that’s a really good drawing,” he said, pointing at Akaashi’s sketchbook.

“Thanks,” Akaashi replied quietly. It wasn’t the first time someone noticed his sketches, and Akaashi was used to receive comments here and there.

“Haha, thanks to you, for including half of me,” the boy added with a grin.

Akaashi realized he was still with his music playing and quickly pulled the earbuds out of his ears. “Uhm—Sorry, I should’ve probably asked you first.”

He never asked, actually, and sometimes he felt bad he didn’t. There surely must be some people who wouldn’t agree to be drawn, either completely or partially, on a stranger’s book.

“Nah! It’s fine with me. I like it,” he reassured promptly. “Hey, my name’s Bokuto.”

Akaashi stared at the effusiveness of that guy, a bit surprised. “Akaashi,” he replied.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto echoed. “It’s nice you got something fun to do while travelling. I’m stuck here with nothing interesting to spare my time,” he complained with a tired sigh, lying back against the seat with a thump.

“Yeah, I guess you can’t really… play in here,” Akaashi responded with a soft glance at his volleyball.

“Ahh, so true. Oh, sorry if I’m bothering you, you probably want to go back to your drawing.”

Akaashi looked at his sketchbook – practically finished.

“It’s okay… I’m done, anyway.”

“Already??” Bokuto closed in on his seat, taking a better look. “You’re so fast.”

Akaashi started to feel a bit warm on his cheeks with so many positive comments. “It’s a quick sketch… nothing much.”

“Looks perfect to me. Not that I know much about art, anyway,” he flashed another grin.

Akaashi side-eyed the volleyball that he was spinning on his hand with an excited face, just like a kid with his favourite toy.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi pronounced, “are you a professional player?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed, thrilled. “You noticed! I really look like one, don’t I??”

His vivacity was out of place, and Akaashi lied back a little because Bokuto had shortened the distance between them too suddenly.

“I… guess, somehow. Ordinary people don’t travel around with a volleyball in their hands.”

Bokuto let out a disappointed groan. “Is that why? I thought it was more than that,” he admitted, staring with a gloomy face at his clenched fists.

“Well, not only that. Everything counts, I think,” Akaashi quickly made sure to add.

Bokuto tilted his head to the side in anticipation. “Really?”

«I have no idea, but it seems like that’s what you want me to say…»

“Really.”

Bokuto nodded with energy, reassured, and waved his fists in the air. “Hell yeah I am! I didn’t practice every day for nothing!”

«Just how old is he…? Seems older than me, but I’m starting to have my doubts…»

One way or another, Akaashi kept following his conversation with Bokuto, and this time, Bokuto showed even more interest in him.

“What about you, Akaashi? Besides drawing, tell me about you!”

Akaashi held back for a moment. Bokuto’s straightforwardness had him a bit cornered on his seat.

“I’m an art student.”

“Oh! So it just comes back to drawing.”

“Well… I guess. We do more than that, though.”

“But this is what you do best, right? I mean, look at what you did in like, half an hour…” Then, Bokuto’s eyes opened drastically and clutched his hand onto Akaashi’s forearm. “Oh my god, Akaashi, would you draw an owl for me??”

Akaashi didn’t even consider what he’d been asked when his mouth began to speak on his own, driven by the warm grip of Bokuto. “Animals aren’t my forte, but… I can try.”

“Yesss! Thank you!” he exclaimed, ecstatic.

“You really like owls,” Akaashi remarked in a low voice, trying to make him calm down or the whole bus would be sending them death glares.

“How do you know that?” A hint of surprise was revealed on his tone.

“Your phone strap.”

“Huh?” His eyes travelled to his pocket where the strap of a little owl figurine was hanging out. Akaashi hadn’t missed that detail when he first skimmed over the player. Bokuto realized and let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, you got me! A friend of mine gave it to me so I’d shut up for a while. Seems like I didn’t?”

Akaashi gave him half a smile of agreement, and flipped a page over on his sketchbook. It was going to be the first time he drew any kind of bird, actually, so he wasn’t completely sure if he was going to success, or fail dramatically instead. He decided to switch to a charcoal pencil and took one from the pocket of his backpack.

Bokuto shifted around, and bent his right leg under his left thigh on the seat, getting more comfortable. Akaashi, on the other hand, was exchanging quick glances up and down his page.

“What’s wrong?”

“You kinda resemble an owl, so… I’m using you as reference.”

Bokuto burst into a wholehearted laughter.

“That’s the best thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

And he proceeded to face and glare intensely at Akaashi, without moving.

Akaashi gave him an uneasy look. “Erm, Bokuto-san… You don’t really have to pose… This is not a portrait.”

“But it gotta look intimidating. And powerful!”

Some wrinkles appeared on Akaashi’s forehead. “Just… leave it to me. Keep doing your own thing. It’s going to take a while for this one.”

Bokuto’s expression unstiffened, and muffled a low, sad hoot that made Akaashi roll his eyes and shake his head.

 

 

 

 

 

“Akaashi. Akaashi.”

“What,” he snapped, without looking up from the sketch.

“You done?”

“Not yet, please stop asking every ten minutes.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Akaashi, look at those cows!! _Holy_ cow!” Bokuto shouted, eyes focused on the big, fat animals across the field.

“Not interested…”

“But they’re, like, huge! And there’s so many of them!”

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing them all my life.”

“You live here in the countryside?”

“Yeah… I’m going home.” Akaashi mumbled. He hesitated for some seconds, and realized Bokuto’s words. He raised his head and looked at him. “You don’t?”

“Me? Hah no way! I’m a man of the city,” Bokuto replied, folding his arms behind his neck.

“And what brings you to Miyagi?”

“My friend Kuroo begged me to come. He has an important match in Sendai against one of the top players in the country.”

Akaashi hummed understandingly.

“And you’re not from that top?”

Bokuto’s expression turned a bit red and opened his mouth bashfully.

“I-I am! I am in the top 5 of best spikers! _Ace_ of my team!”

Akaashi hummed again and went back to his drawing. It was funny how flustered Bokuto became in a moment – Akaashi deduced he was probably a very competitive player. He imagined him as an actual owl, hooting and flapping his wings around, trying to protect his earned territory. Somehow, it brought a small grin to Akaashi’s face.

 

 

 

 

 

About an hour later, the bus arrived to a rest area and announced they were making a stop for fifteen minutes. Everyone was encouraged to leave the bus to stretch their legs, eat something at the restaurant, and visit the restrooms.

It was raining heavily outside, and a few passengers chose to stay on their seats. Bokuto looked outside the window with an intimidated expression.

“If we make a run for it, it won’t be that bad,” he suggested, not sounding very convincing.

“Fine by me.”

And with long, fast strides, they jumped off the bus towards the safe roof of the restaurant area.

Obviously, they got drops all over their hair and clothes, but it was only for a few seconds. Now that they were standing next to each other, Bokuto realized that Akaashi was a little shorter than him. He gave him a quick scan before Akaashi could even notice.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna get something to eat,” Bokuto said, and right after heading to the opening doors, he stopped.

“Bokuto-san?”

“Dammit,” he patted his pockets and turned around, looking at their bus on the distance. “I left my wallet in my bag.”

Akaashi grabbed his own backpack from his shoulder and unzipped. “You can take one of these.”

Bokuto saw Akaashi holding a couple of wrapped _onigiris_ , which were definitely homemade.

“Whoa, Akaashi. You’re a life savior. Uh, but—It’s your food!”

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry. I made them just in case.”

Bokuto thanked him and grabbed one. They walked to the corner of the building and leaned against the wall while eating and observing the rain that was falling without a break. Bokuto ate his _onigiri_ in just three bites. Akaashi noticed silently.

“If you’re still hungry I can lend you some money.”

Bokuto quickly shook his head. “No! I’m fine!”

“Aren’t athletes supposed to eat a lot?”

« _I_ eat a lot. But I can’t do that in front of you, god, Akaashi.»

“I’m fine, really!”

 

The break time came soon to an end and the two boys ran towards the bus, back to their comfy seats. They sat, and Bokuto noticed Akaashi staring at him.

“Bokuto-san, your hair kind of… flattened.”

“Agh, come on!” He groaned while patting at his hair and facing the truth. “It’s been only a few meters! I hate this weather.”

“It doesn’t look bad, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto stopped his fingers buried under locks of hair, instead of trying to hold them straight up again. He eyed Akaashi in disbelief. “It doesn’t?”

Akaashi responded with an understanding look, followed by a shrug. “Looks good either way.”

And Bokuto trusted Akaashi without any further reason that the stupid spiraling he was feeling deep inside.

 

 

 

They had been back on the road for almost another hour, and Bokuto was getting bored. Akaashi didn’t speak much, because his sketch was where he put all his attention and effort. So after a few word exchanges that Bokuto initiated only to get a hum or monosyllables coming out from Akaashi’s lips, he gave in.

He grabbed his volleyball and put it on the armrest by the isle. He shifted around his seat to get the best comfortable position, and when embracing the ball, he dropped his weight to the side and closed his eyes with a sigh.

Akaashi cocked his head and gave him a long look.

“You’re going to use that as a pillow?”

“It is _always_ my pillow,” he answered with pride.

Akaashi didn’t say anything else and resumed his sketch.

Bokuto was comfortable, somehow. It wasn’t because of the ball, but the entire environment. After a few minutes, all sounds and noises became one pleasant atmosphere and everything felt in its right place. The low humming coming from the bus engine, the wheels sometimes hitting little bumps along the road, the muffled conversations of the rest of the passengers, and the pouring rain clattering against the glass windows. And closest to him, the sharp and chalky sound of Akaashi’s pencil on rag paper.

Bokuto’s not sure when it was he fell asleep completely, but he remembered the relaxing way Akaashi was drawing that lifted his mind into a sea of clouds.

 

 

His dream started off dull and grey, but then Akaashi swung his pencil around and traced silver lines over the sky that made everything shine at once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_what do you go home to?_

 

“…to-san.”

 

 

 

 

“…kuto-san, we’re arriving.”

 

 

 

“Bokuto-san.”

 

A soft poke on Bokuto’s cheek woke him up. As he rose from his seat and stretched out his limbs, the bus was reaching to a stop and everyone in the bus was shifting around, prepared to get off soon.

“Wait, we here already?” Bokuto asked, taking a glance across the window and seeing the busy place that was Sendai station. Thankfully, there wasn’t raining anymore, and instead the skies were clear in the city.

“You’ve been sleeping for like an hour.”

“Damn.”As if he hadn’t had enough sleep that morning.

“I finished your owl,” Akaashi added, handing him a yellowed paper.

Bokuto accepted it with still a hint of drowsiness, but once he saw the amazing drawing Akaashi had done, his face lit up instantly.

“Whoa! This is—Wow, really, Akaashi… I have no words.”

The owl was very, very detailed, with a perfect use of shadowing, and it had his head slightly tilted to one side, flashing a curious expression. Bokuto simply loved it. It was almost like seeing a real picture of an owl in black and white.

“You like it?”

Bokuto lifted his gaze and there was Akaashi, his face a mix of unease and… was he being shy?

“I _love_ it. Thank you, Akaashi.”

Akaashi’s face turned a warmer tone of rosy, and quickly fidgeted down the seat, getting his backpack and hanging it on his shoulder.

The bus opened their doors and people started getting off. Bokuto stood up, volleyball in his hand and feet on the floor of the bus isle.

“Akaashi, wait for me outside, I’m gonna get my bag from the trunk,” he told Akaashi before heading to the front with hurried steps.

After getting his bag with the help of the conductor, and dodging the people who were leaving, Bokuto looked around and didn’t see Akaashi amongst the crowd. He walked until an empty spot on the sidewalk, and still didn’t catch any sight of Akaashi. He started to panic, painful thoughts started to roam in his head – _no way Akaashi would’ve left already_ , _what if something happened_ , _but it’s only been a minute_ , _maybe he was just being nice because we were stuck at the same place but now—_

“Bokuto-san.”

His voice. Bokuto turned around like he had been struck by a lightning, and all his fears vanished when he saw Akaashi with a crooked smile.

“Sorry, I was making a call. Got dragged by the crowd.”

“Oh, alright.”

“So…” Akaashi trailed off, hands inside his pockets and avoiding eye contact.

Bokuto suddenly started to feel out of breath and words, because what was supposed to happen now? What was he going to say?

“You want to come to our gym!?” he blurted out, and probably it wasn’t the best way to put it, but it was clear and direct, and that was all Bokuto could come up with.

Akaashi, however, didn’t seem to follow, and his expression turned blank. “What?”

“With me and Kuroo, you know, my friend… just wondering if you’d like to come by and see us play? His team is currently at Y university… and they’re—uhm, holding some practices there before the match, so…”

In fact, Bokuto was one of those people who dragged on with blabbering despite knowing it was going nowhere, and still couldn’t manage to stop speaking once they started.

Akaashi remained silent for some seconds, which felt agonizing for the volleyball player.

“I’m not sure… I should be with my family. They haven’t seen me in months.”

“Oh, right, yeah. I understand,” Bokuto replied in a rush, feeling his heart turning hard as a rock and falling down into his stomach. Obviously Akaashi would have better things to do, rather than waste his free time watching him sweat in a gym. “Well then… then… See ya.”

Why say _see ya_ when you’re clearly never going to see each other again?

But what Bokuto really didn’t want to say was _good-bye_.

“Bokuto-san. I was joking.”

Bokuto stood there, looking dumbfounded.

He was used to pun with Kuroo, he always knew when a lame joke was coming, how to answer and keep fooling around.

Akaashi, on the other hand, was another completely different story. But it was a promising story, and even though Bokuto wasn’t exactly what you could call a literary man, he wanted to keep flipping through those pages.

Akaashi flashed him one last smile. “I’ll step by that gym tomorrow afternoon. _See ya_.”

 

With Akaashi’s figure slowly disappearing into the travelling crowd, Bokuto finished the first chapter.

He had liked it.

A _lot_.

 

 

 

 

Kuroo turned up around twenty minutes later. Bokuto didn’t waste any time to scold him for being late.

“Hey, Kuroo! What the hell took you this long?”

“Dude, who’s the one who arrived an hour later than planned? Obviously I continued with my practice.”

Bokuto saw that his friend was covered in sweat, and his black T-shirt showing heavy darker spots, but he insisted. “I sent you a text and still you got me here waiting!”

“Alright— sorry, sorry. You got us in the middle of a winning set, that is.”

“Aw, man,” and Bokuto couldn’t retort back, because he knew he would’ve done the same.

“Glad to see you too,” Kuroo replied with a grin while grabbing his friend by the shoulder and pulling him away from the station towards their established residence.

 

 

 

Bokuto spent the rest of the day watching Kuroo practise with his teammates. He knew almost all of the players due to training camps and past competitions, so he didn’t feel out of place at all. It was almost like home.

But after the long afternoon, when finally lying on his borrowed futon in the same room as Kuroo and his team, he realized that for the very first time in his life, despite he wasn’t alone, he was lacking someone around.

He was missing Akaashi next to him.

 

 

 

 

 

Akaashi showed up the following day around six, when Bokuto and Kuroo where training their serves alone against each other. Bokuto immediately saw him when he entered the gym –not in vain he had been glancing every five minutes to the doors under the suspicious eyes of Kuroo-, and he was going to welcome him, but Akaashi gently signaled with his hand not to worry and continue what he was doing. He sat on the closest bench, and Kuroo quickly approached his friend with a face that Bokuto could read so well.

“Okay, before you open that mouth of yours: no, he’s not my boyfriend. We met on the bus, and thought of inviting him over. That’s all.”

“And you’re telling me this now? Wow, maybe I should ditch the team and travel on my own, too. Public transportation these days, huh?” Kuroo replied with a smirk, glancing at Akaashi, sat on the bench.

“Oh, stop it.”

“Oh, my _Brocute_ , truth hits hard like a ball, right?”

“Okay, bring it on. I’ll spike you to the ground,” he declared and stomped towards the serve spot.

“Oooh, someone’s fired up,” Kuroo replied in a higher tone, stepping to the right position behind the net. “Friendly reminder that I’m the one who has a match tomorrow.”

“Then prove me you’ve practiced enough to beat Ushiwaka!”

And with a jump, Bokuto hit a powerful serve in the air, straightforward to Kuroo, who had a smug smile plastered all over his face, proud to have his nimble friend back in the same court, always ready to kick some ass.

After a few serves and blocks, Kuroo waved at Bokuto to come closer again, and he whispered a few words to him. “Oi, what’s the cute guy’s name?”

Bokuto looked at him with half-closed eyes. “Akaashi. Why…?”

“Hey, Akaashi! You wanna have a try with us?” Kuroo yelled to the side where Akaashi was sitting.

Bokuto became all flustered at once. “Idiot, he’s studying art stuff, his hands are his life!! What if he gets hurt?”

“And yours aren’t? Come on, it’s only a practice.”

“He should toss to me, then,” Bokuto’s words were determined by a firm voice.

Kuroo chuckled. “Wait, how about we let him decide,” Akaashi was already in front of them, waiting. “So, Bokuto kindly suggests you toss to him for the health of your hands.”

Akaashi was massaging his knuckles, distractedly. “I’m okay with that.”

Kuroo grinned and almost laughed when he faced Bokuto’s _I’ll kill you later_ glare. “Alright then, positions are all settled! Let’s start!”

“Thanks for coming, Akaashi,” Bokuto thanked rapidly once they were at their own side of the court.

“No problem. I promised you I was going to.”

That statement made something twist inside Bokuto’s chest. There was something about Akaashi’s straightforwardness that hit him deep, and hoped that his face wouldn’t reveal how much he liked it.

 

 

Having Akaashi toss to him resulted in a very nice experience. Of course, a lot of balls failed because the toss was either too high or too low for Bokuto in order to spike it successfully, so it landed on the net. It was expected, since Akaashi was no professional. However, he had this sort of tactful and precise toss somehow, in which he managed to include his essence and soul in the ball he pushed to the air, just like some experienced setters could. Bokuto realized that Akaashi’s gift was his hands, and was convinced that he could probably achieve any goal he set with them.

 

 

 

Two hours later, Kuroo wrapped up the informal training session, and with both Bokuto’s and Akaashi’s help, they cleaned the floor and collected all balls.

“I’m afraid my team’s going to kick me out if I don’t leave already. They’re probably waiting for me at the restaurant for our ritual last meal before a match,” he explained.

“Yea, you probably should,” Bokuto reprimanded jokingly.

“Pshh, no need to tell me. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow at the grandstand, right?”

Bokuto and Akaashi shared a quick glance at each other.

“We’ll cheer loudly for you, Kuroo-san.”

Bokuto smiled and nodded. “You’d better win this one, Kuroo. I didn’t come all the way here for nothing, you hear me?”

Kuroo gave his friend a nudge on his ribs. “Yeah, you sure did, bro. Got yourself a nice present on _your way_ here.”

Bokuto was almost going to smack Kuroo hard on the head but his friend had always had better reflexes and slipped away from his grip in a second.

“Off you go, my little owls, enjoy the night!” were Kuroo’s last words before turning around the corner and leaving Bokuto and Akaashi alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_glittering blackness_

 

 

They strolled for a long time, without a designed destination. However, Akaashi’s longing for natural landscapes seemed to pull his body instinctively towards the Hirose river, and both of them agreed to lie down on the grass by its shore. It was a pleasant evening without much noise around, and Akaashi and Bokuto enjoyed the peacefulness of their conversation bordered by still water.

Bokuto spent minutes telling Akaashi about volleyball – the first time he played, the moment he knew he was going to dedicate his life to that sport, his wins and losses, his happiness and frustrations.

Akaashi learned a lot about Bokuto, and he also learned how real his passion for volleyball was, and how effectively that could go through other people. Bokuto was certainly gifted to evoke strength and motivation no matter the circumstances.

After a while, the volleyball player didn’t add anything else to his speech and became quiet. Akaashi thought that maybe he had fallen asleep, but when he tilted his head to the side, he saw him staring at the dark sky with a dreamy expression.

“Akaashi, you ever think about the universe?”

Akaashi frowned a little.

“I do, sometimes. What’s up with that question now?”

Bokuto exhaled. “I don’t know… it’s just… so vast and huge, it makes you feel like nothing. Just think how millions of years ago, all atoms across space were together inside this enormous thing… even my atoms and yours, too. And then suddenly, boom!” He raised his hand excitedly, and then dropped it back to his chest. “The big bang. Planets, stars… everything came out of that explosion. Mind-blowing.”

Akaashi listened thoughtfully, trying to get a picture of what Bokuto had just said, with his gaze lost somewhere far away into the sky. It’s true that he had wondered about it sometime, hadn’t everyone else too?

Life, death, earth, space – that kind of themes. Infinite planets, stars, galaxies, which humankind had so little record of.

Akaashi kept staring at the glittering blackness above them. There would never be enough time to solve all the mysteries within the cosmic world, or more like he wouldn’t be alive by then. But there was actually one thing he was glad to have had the chance to experience.

“Fortunately, we ended up at the same place.”

 

 

 

A warm silence surrounded them both again, and Bokuto felt his lips widen unconsciously. A smile shaped by Akaashi’s words that was worth a thousand cosmic explosions.

He stayed quiet, letting the nocturnal breeze be a transparent witness of what he and Akaashi shared.

 

 

 

(That night, Bokuto thanked the universe as many times as stars filled the sky.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_human qualities_

 

 

Next day’s match was tough and long, reaching to a third set. Kuroo and his team did everything they could, but lost. They were out of the current competition.

Bokuto and Akaashi were waiting outside the Sendai Gymnasium, away from the crowd, when Kuroo showed up carrying his sports bag on his shoulder, and a drained expression was covering his face.

Before Bokuto could even open his mouth, Kuroo spoke first.

“Ahh, bro,” he exhaled. “You know what pisses me off the most is that another tournament is gone without battling against you.”

Bokuto snorted. “That’s your concern? Didn’t know you were so eager to lose against me, too.”

“Like _hell_ ,” Kuroo replied with sarcasm.

“Well, you know what to do if you don’t want that to happen.”

“I will beat your feathery ass,” Kuroo assured. A couple of players in the distance were yelling at Kuroo and he waved back. “Well, duty calling. Bokuto, you still coming back with us, right? Gotta join the team and coach for a while, but we’ll be waiting for you at the parking spot, okay? Just call me if you change your mind! Oh, and bye Akaashi!”

Kuroo left hurriedly to meet his team and coach again, and Bokuto and Akaashi stood there, alone again.

“You two have a great friendship,” Akaashi pointed out.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Too much time together, it’s good to have someone like him.”

“You’re leaving now with them, then?”

Bokuto seemed to hesitate before responding, but in the end he nodded. “Yeah. I’ve known the coach for many years, and he kindly offered me to join their bus home.”

Akaashi hummed.

“It would’ve been cool to share another ride together, right?” he added with a soft laugh.

Akaashi focused his eyes on him with a serious expression.

“Why don’t we?”

Bokuto wasn’t following. “Well, aren’t you staying with your family for the summer break…?”

“I am, but that means I’d have to go back to Tokyo alone. I’d rather travel with you. Again.”

All blood from Bokuto’s body seemed to rush up to his cheeks, blushing so much he was struggling to keep looking at Akaashi. Akaashi, however, didn’t break contact and stared deeply, for long and silent seconds, until he got closer and kissed Bokuto on the lips.

It was a kiss that lasted for less than five seconds, but the touch was firm, and soft, and _real_. But Bokuto simply couldn’t believe it.

Akaashi pulled away slowly, and sank his eyes back on Bokuto.

“Bokuto-san, why are you so shocked,” he muttered, with his particular calm and relaxed tone.

Bokuto’s lower lip was slightly trembling. “I-I can’t believe you just kissed me.”

“Well, someone had to do it first.”

Bokuto opened his mouth, and scoffed. “Are you reproaching me for not kissing you?”

Akaashi’s expression hadn’t changed a bit, but his voice did.

“Maybe.”

And Akaashi knew that Bokuto had noticed, by the way his lips curved enthusiastically, just like Akaashi imagined they would look when a decisive match was about to start. That’s why Bokuto grabbed him by his shirt and kissed him back, because, as Akaashi predicted, Bokuto was a competitive man with a passionate heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Same seats?” Bokuto asked once they both jumped in their bus back to Tokyo.

“Same seats,” Akaashi replied, and held Bokuto’s hand discreetly by behind.

Bokuto jerked in surprise, and Akaashi rapidly pushed him forward with his free hand, while hiding a smile against his shoulder blade.

It was going to be another five long hour ride side by side, and probably they would have never guessed that it would happen again, not when just a few days ago they first met in a very different situation.

 

This time, Akaashi abandoned his mp3 player, because he realized that listening to Bokuto’s soft breathing was definitely more soothing and inspiring. And Bokuto ditched his volleyball inside his bag, because leaning against Akaashi’s arm was, indeed, a much better option.

 

In fact, Bokuto and Akaashi’s day could not have started any better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two weeks later, Bokuto was visiting Akaashi’s university. The Art building was elegant, beautiful, and everything Bokuto could also apply to Akaashi.

The reason why he was there when his boyfriend was about to start a lesson was, of course, for art’s sake. Akaashi was leading him through the wide corridors, with other students coming and going around.

“So you’re going to be fine, posing fully naked?”

Bokuto froze on his tracks. “Wait, what? Fully naked as in… really _naked_?”

Did Akaashi ever stress the term ‘fully naked’ when he asked him to model for his classmates? Bokuto was absolutely sure he didn’t. Or perhaps he had been too busy observing Akaashi’s body while in bed, when he suggested that to him, that he didn’t even hear him properly.

“Of course… it’s called _Anatomy_ for a reason. And the sculpture _is_ naked.”

Bokuto’s gaze dropped to the floor and he swallowed, hesitant. He could deal with being naked in front of Akaashi (after all, wasn’t sex a more intimate display of art, too?), but to have a whole room with plenty of eyes staring at him? He might have to reconsider his offer.

Akaashi got closer and tapped him on the shoulder. Bokuto looked up to him – He was flashing an amused expression.

“Bokuto-san, don’t freak out. You can wear your boxers. Or briefs. Anything but your knee pads.”

In that moment, Bokuto accepted the fact that he would never figure out Akaashi’s sense of humour.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> the world isn’t ready yet for naked bokuto mimicking the discobolus. /stares longingly at the distance/
> 
> [this sweet comic strip](https://twitter.com/lanacioncom/status/561924567397314560) is where their conversation about the universe comes from <3 it helped me develop and shape this fic way better.  
> title(s) within are from explosions in the sky (surprise! haha), whose music inspired me during writing. They are on akaashi’s playlist, too ;)  
> And, if you want to experience the bus ride passage when bokuto falls asleep while akaashi is drawing, play these three links at the same time and you’ll get a similar atmosphere: [1](http://youtu.be/X1kekVkIwLs?t=10m) [2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=br-rLEf3chg) [3](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9wwVC5m5ixg) (I love asmr and this helped me get in the mood ^^). Just wanted to share this with y’all hehe.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


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